In a recent column, I mentioned in passing that I have ADHD. It is one of a number of what are known as neurodevelopmental disorders, which simply describes a brain that functions differently from the “norm” — also termed neurodivergent. Impulsivity, inattention, forgetting commitments, feelings of being overwhelmed or attacked, can make relationships and social interactions difficult for people with ADHD. Two other neurodevelopmental disorders, which most people are familiar with, are autism and dyslexia.

As a member of the much-maligned Boomer generation, who was raised by two stalwarts of the Silent Generation, this was not a condition on anyone’s radar — let alone treated with any sort of understanding or compassion by either parents or teachers. Drug therapy was still years in the future, so I, and others like me, were simply viewed as the “difficult” boys and girls in school. We were the ones who sat inattentively staring out windows, lost in our own thoughts; or running around the room getting into everyone’s business. I was the stare-out-the-window type.

While ADHD is a genetic condition, early childhood trauma, and general life struggles, often play a part in determining the severity of the condition.

In my case, all the upheavals I experienced in my young life didn’t help. I was an introverted child with few friends and spent hours playing alone in my room. Though I loved to read and learn new things, I wasn’t much for the classroom regimentation or rote learning, which was the popular teaching method at the time. I couldn’t understand why I was having such difficulty with school, when it seemed so easy for most of my classmates. I was acutely aware my mind wandered so, for fear of being called on, I typically sat at the back of the class and attempted to disappear. If called up to the blackboard, my mind would freeze, and anxiety would cause me to shake so badly it could have registered on the Richter scale.

Often, individuals with ADHD are also diagnosed with autism, and the two share some similarities. Anxiety is a separate condition, but roughly half of people with ADHD can experience it as well. Due to potential problems with dopamine regulation, maintaining feelings like happiness and motivation is often difficult. Common situations, like being interrupted, or unexpected changes in plans or routines, can trigger feelings of annoyance and anger. This happens because ADHD affects the brain’s ability to regulate emotions.

In high school, I started drinking coffee, and it was then had the realization I did better in my morning classes than in the afternoon. I usually still arrived home without the textbooks I needed to complete homework assignments — if I even remembered I had homework. Thankfully, my reading retention allowed me to test well, or I might never have graduated. I did eventually learn to make lists and keep a calendar. Nowadays, despite being “semi-retired,” I still structure my life around my calendar and “to do” list. For fear of all my electronic devices crashing at once, I also maintain written copies on my desk as well. I’m pretty sure that has something to do with the ADHD.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t diagnosed until I was in my 40s. By then I’d already stumbled my way through a few relationships, and a number of jobs. One Sunday, I just happened to read an article on the subject in the paper. That story could have been written about me! In it, I saw my various life challenges enumerated and had the proverbial “aha” moment. This ultimately led me to a therapist who specialized in working with people having neuro-developmental conditions. From her, I learned that ADHD is not simply about the negative aspects of the condition; there are a number of positives as well. People with the condition are often creative, good at specialized skills, problem-solving and quick thinking. They’re also able to adapt to new situations. In addition, individuals with ADHD often demonstrate a high degree of empathy, generosity, and an ability to notice details as well.

This was during a time when ADHD seemed to be on everyone’s minds (no pun), and the treatment of neurodivergent children who acted out, and/or underperformed in school, typically involved drug therapy. The drug of choice at the time was an amphetamine stimulant. I had already discovered this form of therapy many years earlier via personal experimentation. And, just as with coffee, I’d found it to have a positive impact on my various symptoms — including my anxiety. I wasn’t pulling any all-nighters at this point in my life, so I wasn’t particularly interested in taking speed, no matter what benefit might be derived. I’d made it this far in life by making small incremental changes — like those lists and calendars — in order to function day to day. But with interpersonal situations I still needed some help.

Now that I had a name for what I’d been dealing with, I did more reading on the subject. Coincidentally, this is one of the first recommendations for adults living with ADHD: the more you know the better you, and your support group, will be able to manage the condition. Other recommendations include staying organized, and decluttering your home and workplace. Thankfully, these were all things I’d already intuited over the years. Another suggestion is to discuss ADHD with your partner, and other family members, so they can better understand what you’re dealing with and, hopefully, be supportive.

My deceased partner, a therapist herself, was totally committed to our relationship, but wasn’t particularly supportive. Granted, dealing with some of my more profound quirks — forgetfulness (a real bummer when you’re the one paying the bills), losing focus, not paying attention during conversations and being easily distracted — was challenging for her. She couldn’t really grasp that these traits were manifestations of my ADHD, not due to lack of caring or some ill intent on my part. I strongly suspect she may herself have had undiagnosed ADHD, and some of my behaviors were simply triggering hers.

Probably the greatest gift I’ve been able to give myself as I’ve grown older is the acceptance of myself as being a fully functioning person — to have finally managed to integrate the “good” with the “bad” aspects of my condition, and to be able to view my neurodivergent brain as a positive. These days, I make sure to do lots of things to stay engaged: I do a little work to keep my brain active — some volunteering, which enables me to interact with other like-minded folks, making art (or trying to); and then there’s my writing.

Of course, maintaining family relationships, a few close friendships and social connections is important to me, but I do have a limited tolerance for people, and I still need lots of alone time to recharge my batteries make my lists and check my calendar. Now if that’s not ADHD, I don’t know what is.

W. R. van Elburg is a James City County resident. He can be reached at w.r.vanelburg@gmail.com.

https://www.dailypress.com/2026/01/12/you-dont-say-now-if-thats-not-adhd-i-dont-know-what-is/